


I Want To Talk To You At 3AM

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Camping, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Drama, Hiking, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam is a boring person, he won't lie to himself. So when he gets a guys number from a chat site, he doesn't expect his life to turn into an inferno of chaos and feelings with no words to describe them.
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	I Want To Talk To You At 3AM

The morning was normal for Sam. He wakes up, goes to work, gets home, sleeps. It's boring, but comfortable in a way. Like the colour green.  
  
Sam gently placed a flower back into it's vase. His manager hated children, and honestly? He was starting to understand it. Kids in the flower shop were the worst little shits. Except for the occasional, quiet kid who Sam helped find the right flowers. Sam liked those ones. Being loud and obnoxious was overrated, in his opinion.  
  
A hand fell upon his shoulder, and he turned to see his coworker.  
  
"Martha," He said slowly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey, I need to talk to you." Martha led him to the backroom.  
  
"So, what's up?" Sam asked, curiosity rising in his mind.  
  
Martha took a deep breath before speaking.  
  
"I'm quitting," She almost whispered.  
  
"Oh," Was all he said.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Martha began, rubbing the back of her neck.  
  
"Do you have a better job, or?"   
  
"Well, actually, I'm sort of going on a road trip."  
  
"What? Why?" As Sam spoke, a sort of laugh left him.  
  
"You know, just, _adventure_."  
  
"I'm not following."  
  
"Don't you ever long for something more in your life?" Martha asked. The question drifted in Sam's mind, and he blinked slowly.  
  
"No, I don't," He spoke, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"Well, I do, so I'm quitting." She shrugged.  
  
"When?" Sam asked.  
  
"Actually, I've already quit. I'm leaving in two days."  
  
"Oh," Sam said again.  
  
"Cheer up, I'll come back, eventually." Martha gave his arm a light punch.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Sam rolled his eyes.   
  
As he closed up the store, Martha's question rang again. He shook his head quickly, dismissing the tugging in his chest. He was happy and fine with his life. He really was.

* * *

Apparently, he wasn't. That night, he had signed up for some stupid chat site. Maybe he just needed to talk to a random stranger. Maybe that would silence the thoughts inside his head. Just a small chat.  
  
Well, that small chat had turned into long conversations, and Sam almost laughed when he saw the time. 12 AM. Fantastic.  
  
 _Are you still there?_  
  
The message woke Sam from his trance.   
  
_Yeah, sorry, it's just really late.  
  
_ He responded to the message, and tried to keep his eyelids open. Luckily, he stayed awake long enough to read the next message.  
  
 _Here's my number, you can just text that in the morning. :)_  
  
Sam closed his laptop after sleepily punching the number into his phone, unable to stay awake. He'd deal with it in the morning.  
  
Sunlight streamed onto his face, and Sam blinked slowly. He felt like he had just fallen asleep, and now it was morning. He checked his watch, which he didn't bother to take off. 7AM. Fuck.  
  
Sam hurried to get dressed, and swiftly ran out of the house. It was his job to open up the shop at 6AM _sharp_. Helena was going to kick his ass.   
  
He arrived at the shop and found the door locked. Thank god, His boss hadn't arrived yet. He was safe from Helena today. As he sat behind the counter, his phone vibrated. Who the hell would be texting him at 7AM?  
  
 _Good morning! If it's morning there, too lazy to check._  
  
Oh, that's who. Sam's finger hovered over the keyboard, his mind ablaze. His memory was foggy, but he faintly remembered talking to this person. God, he didn't remember their name. Or if he ever actually got it.  
  
 _Hey, good guess, it's morning.  
  
_ The reply was simple and boring. Like Sam.  
  
He settled back into the chair, fidgeting with his fingers. Maybe it was too simple. He didn't want to seem boring. His phone vibrated, and he nearly dropped it from how quickly he pulled it out.  
  
 _Wow, so stiff. What happened to the dude before?  
  
_ Oh, so they're rude. Cool. Sam rested into the chair, his fingers typing a quick response. He spent that morning chatting to the mysterious stranger. He still didn't know their name. Or who they were. Or, really, anything about them.

* * *

Sam spent that afternoon quietly. So when his phone suddenly rang, his heart almost jumped out of his chest. Jesus fuck. He narrowed his eyes at the number, realising slowly that it was his mysterious person.  
  
He took a breath, staring at the answer button. He bit his tongue, and pressed accept.  
  
"Hello?" Sam asked, somewhat hesitantly.   
  
"Hi," The voice that came from the phone was warm. Like chai tea. and then   
  
"What's up?" Sam spoke, biting his fingernails. It was a bad habit. He didn't really know what to say.  
  
"It's night, so I'm not doing anything right now," The boy gave a little laugh as he talked. One thing off the list of mysteries.  
  
"What country do you live in?" Sam asked, hoping it wasn't too intrusive.  
  
"England, obviously," The boy responded, and Sam could see his eyes rolling.  
  
"Tea and biscuit land?" Sam replied with a mockery of an english accent.  
  
"For god's sake, I knew you were going to do that." Though the boy was trying to be angry, laughter escaped throughout his sentence. Sam ran his hand through his black hair as the boy laughed.  
  
"Since you got to ask, I do too. Where do you live?" The boy said, once he had finished laughing.  
  
"Canada, like a normal person."  
  
"Woah, that's a little rude for a Canadian. Aren't you going to apologise?" He teased.  
  
"Fuck you," Flynn said, a smile forming on his face.  
  
The conversation lasted well into the night, and Sam noticed the time slip away. Before they knew it, it was 1AM.  
  
"Oh shit," He said once he read the time.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's fucking 1 in the morning." Sam rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Oh, fuck, has it been that long?" The voice on the other line asked.  
  
Sam prided himself on not blacking out and getting lost in conversation. But for once, He couldn't help losing himself to the conversation. The morning continued, and so did the call. They both didn't want to stop talking.

* * *

"You look like shit," Helena said as she arranged flowers.  
  
"Thanks." Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly.  
  
"What were you doing all night? Obviously you weren't with a girl, that'd be a miracle," As she talked, she let out a laugh at her own joke.  
  
"Just talking, you know," He spoke, giving a shrug.  
  
"No, I _don't_ know. You've never stayed up so late talking to someone." Her eyes narrowed at him, her grey hair dancing as she shook her head.  
  
"I've made a friend, believe it or not." Sam met her gaze. As he spoke, he realised it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He didn't even know his name, could he really call him a friend? He blinked quickly, pushing those thoughts away.  
  
"Sure, a _friend_."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
The sound of a bell cut throughout the store.  
  
"Be there in a minute!" Sam called, leaving Helena's gaze. As he spoke to the woman who had come in, his mind unhelpfully replayed her voice.  
  
Sam left the store, waving goodbye to Helena. He pulled out his earphones, quickly plugging them in. It had become the standard routine for them to call in the afternoon.  
  
"Hey!" The familiar voice called when Sam accepted his call. The conversation came naturally, and they'd only known each other for, what, 3 days?  
  
"So, what's your biggest fear?" Sam asked as he unlocked his door.  
  
"Being forgotten. You?"  
  
"Spiders, but it sounds pretty stupid compared to yours."  
  
The voice burst out laughing, and a smile forced itself onto his face.  
  
"Is it snowing there?" The other boy asked.  
  
"Yeah, it's winter, idiot," Sam said as he placed his bag down.  
  
"Wow, rude. It's snowing here, too," The boy trailed off.  
  
"What's the snow like over there?"  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Yeah, I've heard that." Sam gave a faint laugh.  
  
"You're lucky, the snow's actually fun in Canada."  
  
"Have you ever been here?"  
  
"Nope, but snow anywhere beats England's version."  
  
"Oh please, it's not that bad."  
  
"Bet. I'll come over and prove it," The boy said.  
  
"I'd like to see that," Sam responded. He still didn't know his name.

* * *

"Okay, I need to be honest," Sam began. It had been four days, now.  
  
"Oh?" The boy asked, intrigued.  
  
"I don't know your name." Sam bit the bullet.   
  
He laughed, shortly.  
  
"Noah, obviously," He said, after his laugh.  
  
"How was that obvious?"  
  
"It's obvious, if you're smart like me," Noah spoke.  
  
"Honestly, you're probably the dumbest person I've met."  
  
"Okay, wow, didn't expect that. We haven't met each other, yet."  
  
"Yet?"  
  
Noah paused, and Sam held his breath.  
  
"Well, I mean, you _want_ to meet me sometime, right?"  
  
Sam closed his eyes slowly.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here."  
  
"Well? Do you?"  
  
"Of course I want to meet you, but, I mean, realistically," Sam began, but no further words came. He closed his mouth as the line went silent.  
  
"I've got to go, I'll talk to you another time," Noah's dull voice carried through the line. Instantly, regret boiled within his skin. He should have been more careful with his words.

"Wait, Noah-" Sam was cut off by the call ending. He looked at the contact number, slowly typing his name to replace the numbers. Sam took a slow breath.

3AM passed, and Sam stared at Noah's phone number. He shut his eyes painfully. He really needed to learn how to speak properly. He obviously wasn't going to get any sleep that night, so he allowed his mind to wander. Maybe Noah had blonde hair, or maybe coffee skin to match his voice. That silky, sugary voice.  
  
Sam sat up, rubbing his eyes. So, letting his mind wander was off the cards. That was really creepy.

* * *

Almost a week had passed, with no notice from Noah. Sam was seated between two of his friends, watching some stupid movie. It was a faint attempt at distracting him. It didn't work.   
  
"Literally, just call him," Charlotte said over the movie. Ben nodded from across him.  
  
"No, he might be busy, that'd be weird." Sam bit his fingernails.  
  
"Samuel, I am telling you, just call him." Ben leaned forward, meeting Sam's green eyes.  
  
"Do it, right now." Charlotte paused the movie, looking expectantly at him.  
  
"Fuck, fine," Sam said, giving in and pulling out his phone. He bit the inside of his cheek as he called Noah's number. Luckily, his two 'friends' didn't want him to put it on speaker.  
  
"Hello?" Noah's familiar voice entered his mind.  
  
"Uh, hey," Sam said, unsure.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Oh, nothing really important. You?"  
  
"Um, yeah. My grandfather died, been busy with family stuff."  
  
"Oh _shit_ , I'm sorry." Sam rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
"No, no, it's fine. I'm fine. Just dealing with that," Noah said, a hint of something dark pink in his voice.  
  
"Should I go?"  
  
"No, please. It's good to hear your voice."  
  
"Oh, okay," Sam spoke, rising from the couch. He spent the rest of the evening talking quietly to Noah. Sam really did miss him.  
  
"So he has a house that's ended up in your possession?" Sam asked throughout the night.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not sure if I want to sell it or keep it."  
  
"What does your family think?"  
  
"They want to sell it, as usual."  
  
"As usual?"  
  
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. My whole family are greedy fucks, so that's fun."  
  
"That sounds _so_ fun, wish I was there."  
  
"Honestly? I'd rather you be here," Noah said, letting out a bitter laugh.  
  
"Do you want me to actually come? I could." Sam closed his eyes once he had spoken the sentence. The line went quiet.  
  
"If you want to, yeah, come here."  
  
"Fuck yeah, I'll book a plane." His voice rose higher.  
  
"Actually, hell yeah, that'll be fun."  
  
That night, Sam laid awake. Martha's question came back into his mind. Did he really want adventure?

* * *

No, he _really_ did not want adventure. But there he was, a week later, seated at the airport. He bit his fingernails while he waited, anxiety spiking within his stomach. Hours had passed, and his plane arrived. He shuffled onto his seat, and gazed out of the window. As the plane gained speed and left the ground, he watched the airport drift away.  
  
 _Did he want adventure?_  
  
  
  
  



End file.
